A Study In Time
by Lord of the Gauntlets
Summary: 820 years is far too long for anybody who is reasonably sane to bear. Frankenstein isn't exactly sane, but even so.


**Author's Note: I never really expected to be writing for this fandom, but here I am. Yay.**

 **I love Frankenstein's character for multiple reasons, but my true first impression from reading through Noblesse for the first time was of being struck by how complex he was. So as a result, this is kind of just one of my usual pieces, aka, short, vaguely impressionistic, and with heaping loads of introspection.  
** **This is probably a standalone fic, but I'd be willing to do more for the fandom if anyone has prompts.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Noblesse, etc, etc.**

* * *

The first couple days after he disappears are horrible. Frankenstein spends the entire time waiting, making tea for someone who (300 years into the future he knows) is not coming back. The curtains blow, the window stays open, and his master does not return. After a week, he goes looking on the island, and comes back with more questions than he had before. Eventually, though, he leaves the island for good. The house doesn't have a key, that he knows of, but when he tries the door it's locked. Perhaps that is for the best.

-O-O-O-

Loneliness is, thankfully, a better companion than he ever would have thought. It lets him drink as much as he wants, hurt as much as he wants (whether himself or others is to anyone's guess,) and it lets him kill as much as he wants. Thankfully, as far as he knows, his master can't feel him through their link. After all, mental connections are a two way street and he would be able to tell. A good thing, Frankenstein thinks, a good thing. But then his hands shake with the weight of porcelain and he reminds himself that what he is doing is not a good thing in any way.

-O-O-O-

He has no idea what's been going on with the nobles, or the werewolves, or anything. But damn, letting himself go a little bit is always fun. Those blasted Union members keep stirring up trouble, and he loves being able to take care of all of those little loose ends that nobody will care to notice. Dark Spear enjoys it too, and it fixes the craving that they have for blood. All those angry souls, filled with hatred. It's hard enough to have to deal with the government agencies that are after him (more than a thousand fake identities are enough to tip a few people off) without the screaming of Dark Spear in the background. It's good to have a way to satiate the voices in the back of his mind.

-O-O-O-

Attachments are for those who have something to lose. He doesn't, and never has, liked the idea of having no contact with the world around him, but close bonds cannot be permitted. Not with the way everyone he meets winds up dead. First there was that woman in France, the one whose sister he healed, then the young man in Greece, another in Egypt… No matter who and where and when, the Union finds them. He can't stick around anyway, so maybe those bonds aren't as important as they seem to him. And of course, thinking of bonds, 500 years should be enough time to get over his master's disappearance, but in the end, he's still looking. Looking for a ghost, he thinks. A spirit. Maybe their bond never truly existed, he tells himself. And then he curses his train of thought, because in the corners of his mind he can still feel the faint brushes of that bond. That passive feeling of warmth, which always lingers.

-O-O-O-

It's true, what he does is dangerous. Dark Spear likes to feed on his flesh and sometimes his mind when he goes long enough without giving them a victim. Then there are the government agencies, the angry rulers, the traitor nobles… everyone that he's been running from, and sometimes running at. And the loneliness mixed with the constant anxiety and emptiness is enough to make him want to give up, every so often. It makes him want to stop searching, and to settle down to peaceful days of research. It's enough to make him want to step out into the light and bring the fight straight to all of those who dared to attack humanity, or his master, or even himself. But he doesn't, and he keeps looking. The wounds and the scars heal, and then he feels better. A cycle, he thinks. An unhealthy, destructive cycle of harm and hate and sadness.

-O-O-O-

After a while, he gives up all sense of who he is. Frankenstein? That person no longer exists, or at least doesn't exist in the same way he once did. Dark Spear likes this, and they feed on his pain. He ignores them now, that constant chattering. Like apes, he once told them, in a fit of annoyance. Needless, chattering apes. Now he knows better.

-O-O-O-

With the rise of mental health awareness, drugs flood the markets, all offering to help with any problem that may plague the human mind. He's not sure that the pain of a relationship nearly 700 years faded is that easily fixable, nor the pain of hundreds upon hundreds of human souls all screaming and casting their curses at him, but it's worth a shot. It gives him something to research, while things have calmed down, and in time he manages to develop a chemical that works on modified humans. Like himself. He packages it into a drug, using the typical antidepressants as a test on himself. They seem to work chemically, though his admittedly formidable mental strength prevents them from making much of a difference. However, he learns a couple interesting things about the mental condition of students during his research.

-O-O-O-

Nearly a century later, he thinks that becoming aware of students and the next generation may be where the desire to build a school came from. The knowledge that he could be making a difference to the world and not just himself was somewhat enlightening. The very idea of influencing people who can grow up to do good, and keeping them safe from harm is enough to make him truly invested in the endeavor. And since he's given the Union enough time to get complacent, in fact, completely forgetting about him over time, he decides it's time to come back to civilization. And thus, the next grand process begins.

-O-O-O-

The school itself is easily established, since he has collected more than enough credentials (both fake and real) and currency (also fake and real) over the years. The students are easily found, since people are always looking for a relatively cheap, nice looking school. But what truly defines the decision to make him stay is the children themselves. They greet him by name, and are genuinely happy to see him, which is something he has not experienced since his master- Raizel went missing all those years ago. And so it is that he finds himself not only at peace for the first time in centuries, but also with some modicum of happiness in an otherwise shattered world.


End file.
